Free The Bad Widow by Barbara Elsborg Page A

horse walked on in jerky steps. How quickly life changed. A good-looking guy. A great body. A cock she just knew would be fantastic and he couldn’t ruin things by saying something stupid. Could life get any better?
     
    Yes, it could. The moment he’d kicked the door of her one room-cottage closed, Will ripped her frumpy dress from the neck to the waist. She was so sick of wimpy men asking Is it permissible to touch your bosom? Can I lick your nipple? Where’s your love button? At last, a man who knew what he wanted and took it. More sounds of material tearing and Rose stood naked in front of him. He twirled a strand of her long, white-blonde hair between two fingers and she heard his breathy gulp, saw the way his pupils darkened and his nostrils flared, and wished for a moment he could speak.
    Then she forgot everything because in the time it took her to blink, he was naked too, all solid planes and rounded muscles, long lean legs and narrow hips. Rose’s mouth felt as though she’d inhaled sand. His long, thick cock reared up from a nest of wiry, black curls like some eager beast, anchored by heavy, dark balls. His swollen cockhead shone with pre-cum making her mouth water in excited anticipation. A pearl of moisture blossomed at the slit, growing so fast it broke over the crest and trickled down the length of his shaft. An echoing spurt of moisture erupted from Rose and wet the top of her thighs.
    The wispy contact of Will’s hand sliding down the side of her body made the breath catch in her throat. When his fingers trailed over her belly and paused at her hairless mound before slipping between her legs, a whimper escaped. Rose’s knees shook. She clamped them together and trapped his hand. The sound he made, a low growl of raw need, sent Rose racing toward the edge of the cliff. He pushed her thighs apart and thrust two fingers inside her and she plunged over the sheer drop, coming hard, muscles clenching, pleasure bursting from every pore. Her head spun. Where had this man come from? Will o’ the mist? How could she persuade him to never leave her?
    Rose took a ragged breath before she spoke. “More.”
    Will grinned and lifted his hand to his lips, licking then sucking each finger in turn. Rose sighed and he caught the back of her neck, lowering his face to hers, his breath brushing her lips in a tantalizing tease before their mouths fused.
    Rose was lost. Gone. Swept away faster than a husk of wheat in a millrace. His tongue slid alongside hers, tangling and playing as he explored every part of her mouth. He tasted sweet, of the woods, flowers, mist, something…else but as Rose reached for recognition, he deepened the kiss and her mind fogged with lust. She was bewitched. All she could think about was Will. Inside her. Fucking her. Making her come and come and come until she screamed. His hands roamed her back, pulling her close, trailing down her spine, cupping her ass, rocking her hips into his. One finger pressed into the crease of her bottom and slid down the dark path to the hot junction between her thighs, silky slick with her cream. He pushed forward to her clit, rubbed with the right amount of pressure, circled and pressed as Rose quivered against him. Her vision blurred as though the room had filled with smoke. It felt as though he had fingers everywhere—delving into her cunt, massaging her clit, pressing against the puckered ring of her anus as well as her back, her legs, her arms. Impossible. Rose groaned into his mouth. He caught the sound and let out a choked laugh. Her hands explored smooth skin, hard flesh and his body grew fiery under her touch, his cock swelling and throbbing against her stomach.
    Clutching her hips, Will edged her back until her legs hit the bed, then he lowered her gently, still kissing her, feeding her the heat from his mouth until she burned to the point of combustion. Rose’s inner muscles clenched around his fingers as he dipped and twisted them in and out of her